


Guiding Light

by jairyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brotp, F/M, Star Wars - Freeform, Time Travel, morai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:37:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: As Anakin lies in the ash, flames eating what’s left of his body after his master’s betrayal, he’s offered a chance to see the future he’s creating. His unlikely guide, his former padawan, is not in the mood to indulge his selfishness after her years of suffering and loss. Can they come to an uneasy truce so that he’s finally able to see how he reshaped the galaxy? Will he open his eyes to the truth or continue to burn in his own lies and the lies he’s been told?





	1. Chapter 1

“I hate you!” he screamed at Obi wan as the flames consumed his broken body. He couldn’t die here! He had to save Padmé! This was all wrong! How dare he? He couldn’t believe he’d once trusted him. A scream of agony ripped through his body. 

“You’ve failed.” He looked up at the source of the voice. A temple guardian stood there in their heavy robes and faceless mask, seemingly oblivious to the heat and fire. But at the moment he appeared, he realized that the fire burning up his body had frozen; everything had frozen around him. 

 “That’s not possible! I can still save her!” he shouted at it, wondering how it had gotten here. He’d slaughtered all of them. Was this some trick of the force? 

 “You have fallen from the light, but you have failed the light itself.” It said.

 “Why should I care? I just want to save my wife!” he exclaimed angrily.

 “Even if you were to succeed at that, do you think she’d want you like this?” it asked him. “Do you really believe she’d look at you full of hatred, the good person that she is, and stand by your side while you walk through darkness?”

 “She has to! She is my wife!” If it weren’t for the mask, he’d be almost certain the guardian was looking at him with pity. He didn’t want pity. “Begone specter!”

 “I came to offer you a chance to redeem yourself before you walk too far down this path. That is if you can ever walk again.” It said.

 “I don’t want redemption!”

 “Are you sure about that? Because the world I’m about to show you burns with your selfishness. And if you refuse to repair the damage, your children and grandchildren will pay the ultimate price. Is that the world your wife would have wanted to raise your child in?”

 “Fine! Show me the light even though it won’t save me now!”

 “So be it.”

 —

 He blinked a few times and looked around. He couldn’t see much of anything at first. Just darkness.  He turned seeing movement. Across what looked like a chasm was a ridge slightly more lit that his immediate surroundings. Soft light was shining down on it from what looked like a hole punched in the sky. Someone was standing there looking up through the hole. They felt familiar, but he couldn’t make out anything distinct from this distance. 

He descended into the valley between them, surprised to realize that what he’d first thought were dead plants, were actually blackened statues of ash in the shape of people. Was this the future the temple guardian had warned him about? Many had claimed that he was some ‘chosen one’ from a mythical prophecy, but he had always hated that title. Obi wan had said it to him again back on Mustafar. He still burned with the pain of that fight. 

He was just jealous of him. Jealous of his power and what he had. He could have had it too, if he didn’t let the Jedi hold him back. He picked up a lightsaber that was sitting on the ground and ignited it. It sparked a few times but didn’t turn on. He tossed it aside ignoring the whisper of the force that had accompanied it; the echo of a memory long forgotten. He didn’t care that much to know it. 

The temple guardian had told him he must pass a trial, one that would involve him walking into a dark future of his own creation. One he helped shape. Why should he care about it? They’d done nothing for him. Everything he’d been fighting for had been ripped away from him by the Jedi, and by the people he’d sworn to protect. It was almost as if the force actually expected him to be sorry. Why should he be? Nobody had cared about him like Padmé had, but the Jedi had stolen her from him too!

He kicked a couple stones and looked back up to the ridge. The figure was clearer now, but still he couldn’t be sure who it was. They were familiar, but not. Based on the look of this place, there weren’t many people here still alive. So whoever was standing there must be the person meant to guide him through this trial. Well, hope they’re ready to fail, since there was nothing they could show him that would change the path he was on. They seemed to have a feminine shape to them, what if it was Padmé? But what would she be doing here?

He climbed the last of the hill to the top and froze in his tracks. The figure turned to look at him. “Ahsoka?” He blurted out in surprise. It couldn’t be, but… her markings were the same. She was taller, her head piece in jagged stripes rather than clean lines, the lekku went down to her waist. Her body had filled out. She wasn’t the kid he remembered.

“Anakin?” The shock in her voice quite apparent. 

“Hey Snips!” He said, heading towards her but to his surprise she backed away from him looking scared. 

“No, no, no!” She said, shaking her head. “This can’t be! You’re not real!” Her hands were up, lightsabers at the ready. He stopped moving. 

“Of course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?" He asked curiously. 

"I just fought you!” She said. 

“What?” No that couldn’t be true. Why would he fight her? She wasn’t even a Jedi anymore. She wasn’t the enemy. Well, in a way she was. Anyone of his old life was, but she didn’t represent any of those that had oppressed him, he had no reason to fight her. 

“This place is playing tricks on me! Go away!” She yelled backing away. 

“Ahsoka?” He asked concerned. “I’m no ghost. I mean I guess in a way I am. What year is it?”

She wrinkled her face. “What do you mean what year?" 

"How much time has passed? I mean, you’re older now, how long has it been since I last saw you?” He didn’t understand why she was so freaked out. So what if he was from the past and he looked like his old self? He’d have thought she’d be happy to see him. Even with how things had ended between them.

“I saw you yesterday…” she said nervously. “But you didn’t look like that.”

“That can’t be right. The last I saw you, you were leaving for Mandalore.” He said looking around. Where were they, anyways?

“Anakin…” she started. He glanced back at her, not liking the tone in her voice. “That was sixteen years ago.” She sounded hollow. 

“But…” he stammered, then he paused. This was the future. That’s what the temple guardian had said. Even though she looked different, this was his old padawan. Seeing her had made him forget that times had changed. He didn’t know how much, though, that was the problem. And based solely on her reaction… it was bad. Very bad. Perhaps the temple guardian had been right, this wasn’t a future he’d want for his child.

She turned her back on him, crossing her arms. He saw her take a deep breath, an unmistakable tremble. He knew when she turned back around she would be hoping he wasn’t still standing there. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He didn’t know what had happened. Whatever the fight was between them, she was shaken by it. What could he do to comfort her? Should he even try to? This wasn’t his time. This was a trial. Likely a figment of his imagination to distance himself from the pain of the fire back on Mustafar. 

But if it was a dream… why would she be the first person he thought of? The first one he pictured? He’d cared for her, but she’d left him. She’d failed as his padawan. She’d failed as a Jedi and she’d failed as his friend. If anyone should feel remorse over what had happened, it was her. Not him. 

The words of the temple guardian drifted back into his head,  _'you have fallen from the light, but you have failed the light itself.'_ It was a riddle of course, he knew that. But for some reason, he was suddenly sure that she was the light it had been referring to. At least in the second part of the sentence. He’d failed her? Impossible! He’d done everything to protect her, to clear her name, to make it possible to stay. She was the one that walked away. 

 He started at the realization that she was looking at him again. He hadn’t noticed her turn back around. There was a deep sorrow etched across her features. One that spoke volumes about pain and loss and longing.  _Suffering_. Things that no matter how angry he’d gotten at her for turning her back on him, he’d never wish on her. 

 "My world revolved around you. It did even after I left. And it still does.“ She whispered, her voice ethereal and distant. "But the one time I made a choice to protect myself, you negated all the other things I’d done for you. My one selfish moment, the one moment of fear and doubt, the only time I ever acted on either of those things… became the only thing you remembered.” She crossed one arm over to grab her elbow, biting her lip. “I tried to save you, Anakin. For years. But you never saw me. You never cared. You continued down your self-destructive path. And when I faced everything you’d become… every moment of hate and anger and fear wrapped up and twisted into a demonic being, I still loved you. But again, it wasn’t enough for you.” She looked up at him and he was certain the look in her eyes would burn itself into his memory forever.

 He opened his mouth to argue, but memories flooded his brain like a play by play. She was right. He couldn’t find a single memory in which she’d acted selfishly besides leaving the temple. All he saw were times she was afraid, but did it anyways. Times she was doubtful, but trusted him anyways… and time after time where she fought her way in to save him, protect him or to stand up for him. The memories left a bitter taste in his mouth. If it hadn’t been for her, he would have died early on in the Clone Wars. And suddenly he didn’t feel so powerful or special. He couldn’t be if some kid had to save him over and over again. 

 His life had been made up of a singular focus, his wife. Padmé had been everything he cared about. His only true devotion. He hadn’t even been that committed to the Jedi order. Not if he could live that lie for so long. “Where is Padmé?” He asked, but Ahsoka was gone. He saw her weaving her way through the frozen people below. There was something so haunting about it. Like she was a ghost in a graveyard. But even from this distance, she seemed to give off her own light. She’d lost everything… but she could still stand in and trust the light side of the force. How?

 He watched her movements for awhile. They were slow. He could see the weight she carried on her shoulders as if it was physical, one he’d known well. He could see the mourning in her movements as she drifted from body to body. He felt guilt rise in his throat like bile. Was he responsible for these deaths? For the sorrow she carried? He didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. He’d fought for her, he’d protected her. He’d even forgiven her enough to send her to Mandalore as a General. Even after she’d left him. The entire council, including Obi wan had been against it. But he’d given her the go ahead instead. He’d even returned her lightsabers to her. At such a critical point in the war, he’d also sent Rex with her. Someone he relied on to be there for him. This couldn’t be his fault. He’d given her everything. Even when he’d been solely focused on his wife. He’d still run out there to save others. He’d still put them first.

 The temple guardian was trying to break him down. It was trying to make him question everything he’d fought for. Well it wouldn’t work. He would not be swayed because of one sob story. Even if it was hers. 

 He saw her kneel down and pick up something black and shiny. He couldn’t make out what it was from where he stood, but the way she stared at it sent shivers down his spine. Whatever it was, meant something to her. He made his way to her, but she didn’t look up when he stopped in front of her. He could see now that what she was holding looked like a piece of a black face mask. One red eye stared back at him.

 “I couldn’t kill you… like I should have.” She breathed. “So how are you haunting me?”

 He reached down and took the mask piece from her, flipping it over in his hands. Whatever it was felt hot to the touch. Fire seared across his senses, like he’d felt on Mustafar. He could feel the hatred pouring off this object as if it had been dipped in a liquid version of every negative emotion that existed. He dropped it in the ash as he realized it left a burn mark across his hand. She stared at where it had fallen for a moment and then looked up at him where he was rubbing his hand wondering why it hadn’t burned her. He knelt down in front of her and reached for her hands and removed her gloves. She stared at him blankly as he inspected her hands but saw no evidence of burns. He used her glove to pick it up and set it in her bare hands but still, it didn’t burn her.

 “Why isn’t it burning you?” he asked, showing her the mark it had caused across his palm.

 Instead of answering, she dropped it and took his hand in hers, setting one over the burn mark and looked up in his eyes. “It already did.” She said finally. “You just can’t see my scars.” She let go of his hand and stood up. He stared at his hand. The mark was gone as though she’d healed it. He looked up at her confused wondering how that was possible.

 He picked it up again and stared at the menacing red eye that stared back at him. He saw his reflection in it, but it wasn’t him. It was a burned and broken version of him. Pale, scarred and bald. He dropped it. This was definitely the strangest dream he’d ever had. 

 “Ahsoka! Wait!” he called after her as she moved away again. She paused and looked over her shoulder. “I’m either having the weirdest dream ever or I actually did travel into the future to be here.” He said. She stared at him, looking him over. But she didn’t say anything. “So where are we? And what is happening?”

 “You really want to know?” she asked.

 “Not really, but if I ever want to go home or wake up… I should probably figure out what’s going on.” He said looking around them.

 “Well… I can’t help you with that. Because I don’t know either. As to where we are? This is Malachor. An ancient Sith world. I came here in search of knowledge and instead found a weapon that does all of this.” She said, beckoning to the graveyard/battlefield around them. “And a man I thought I once knew, so twisted by the dark side he couldn’t even admit he was the same person.” Her words were pointed and brash.

 Why couldn’t she forgive him for whatever it was she thought he’d done? “If you’re trying to make a point, just say it.” He said finally. Annoyed that she was speaking in riddles like the temple guardian. 

 “You need me to spell it out for you? Fine. Everyone around you cared about you. Many of them loved you. But you were too obsessed with Padme to care about any of the rest of us. Well the joke is on you, she’s dead! So is Obi wan! So is the rest of the Jedi! They’re all gone, Anakin! And it’s all your fault!” she spat at him and turned away.

 He stared at her back in disbelief. He’d never seen her have an outburst quite like that. He sunk to his knees. Padme was dead? His vision had come true then. He had failed her just like he’d failed his mother. It was all Obi wan’s fault! If he hadn’t of come to Mustafar, they never would have fought! He would have been able to go home to his wife, he would have been able to save her! Ahsoka said he was dead too.  _Good_.

 He couldn’t bring himself to move for a long time. He could feel the darkness raging in him. Even if he was no longer on fire, he might as well have been. This fire would burn his soul though, not his body. How could Ahsoka feel such pain and not the darkness too?


	2. Chapter 2

She’d disappeared again. Where was she now? When he needed her light the most? She was pointedly rubbing it all in. Some friend she was. “Are you just going to sit here and rage at the world?” she asked from behind him. “Because if you are, I’d almost rather your future self come back and finish me off.”

He force pulled a nearby lightsaber into his hand and ignited it, spinning around to strike her. She had hers up ready. He stared at them momentarily in shock. White? How did she have white ones? She threw him back with the force. He tumbled through several bodies, that exploded with ash and landed on him. She stood over him with her lightsabers in her signature reverse grip. Her eyes narrowed in the predatory way that still gave him chills. For a moment, he actually thought she was going to kill him. He felt her anger, but her actions had come from a surprising place of calm. She was challenging him. Would he get up and fight her for real or would he cave and let her win?

Well, he wasn’t ready to give in that easily. He rolled to the side and leapt to his feet. She fought like he’d never seen her fight before. She was cold and focused, not dark, but moved her lightsabers with intent to cause harm. She was lethal, and most definitely not messing around. After his humiliating defeat by Obi wan before coming here, he could not let her win. He would not be beaten by both his master and his apprentice. He doubled his intensity, but she rose up to meet him. She moved fast and deliberate. Her fighting style had adapted over the years to be refined and powerful; a mix between his form and her own. She was fierce, and he was losing.

She sliced down his leg and he fell to his knees, looking up at her in surprise. Her eyes were dark, she was in what he’d always referred to as ‘kill mode’. He staggered to his feet, stumbling to fight back unwilling to give in. She force leapt backwards, dropped down to one knee and put her hands out to the side shutting off her lightsabers. He limply ran at her, clenching his teeth to the pain radiating from the slash in his leg. She caught the hilt of his lightsaber with her bare hands. The red one he’d been holding started flickering different colors as she glared at him in concentration.

A light burst forth from the hilt of the weapon. It was blinding. The blade shut off and was ripped from his hands. It was thrown to the side with a dull thunk, exploding seconds later in a ball of fire. But he’d felt the crystal’s death in the force too. What the kriff had he just witnessed? He was dragged to his feet by the force, staring at her helplessly. Was she really going to finish him off? He saw one of her white blades ignite and come towards him. He closed his eyes waiting for the strike.

But the force that was holding him let go suddenly. “What was that?” he gasped.

She didn’t answer immediately. She stared at him, her eyes still narrowed. She didn’t look shocked or that she was even regretting anything she’d just done. Was she turning dark before his eyes? She turned her back to him without answering and started walking away. He limped after her, his mind reeling from the fight. He tried to read her in the force, but nothing made sense to him.

He was surprised to realize he didn’t want her to turn. No matter what he’d felt about her failing him, it hurt more to see her like this. “Ahsoka?” he asked when she stopped at the bottom of the ruined temple and stared up at it.

“We have to get off this planet.” She murmured as though she wasn’t even talking to him.

“So where’s your ship?” he asked.

“There isn’t one.” She said. “I stayed behind to fight you so my friends could get away.” He didn’t want to admit that it hurt to no longer be referred to as one of her friends. “Then when I didn’t kill you, you left with your own ship and I was stuck here.”

“Your friends? Will they come back for you?” he asked. She turned to him.

“No.” she said simply.

“Some friends.” He muttered under his breath, blowing his hair out of his eyes.

“Would you come back for me?” she asked.

“Yeah of course.” He said without thinking. “Anytime you were lost, I stopped at nothing to find you.”

“What about when I wasn’t lost?” she persisted.

He started to say something, but froze. When he looked up at her he saw her just before she left the Jedi temple. When he’d told her she was making a mistake by leaving and she’d said she had to figure it out on her own. He’d let her go. He’d done what the Jedi preached. The only time in his life he’d managed to obey that lesson only to realize she’d wanted him to follow. She’d wanted him to come back for her; to come looking for her. And when he didn’t… what she’d been feeling had become her truth.

The memory of her morphed into the version that stood in front of him now. “You weren’t lost that day you left, were you?” he asked, watching a shadow of sadness cross her features.

“No.” she whispered. “Just scared.”

“But I let you go. Like I was supposed to.” He said.

“And that’s when I knew the truth.” She said solemnly. “The one thing I’d always believed, with absolute certainty, was that you’d always be there for me. Regardless of the Jedi rules of attachment, you were always there. When you didn’t come after me…” she choked up.

“You thought I stopped believing in you too.” He finished. She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

“I knew I wasn’t the one you wanted. But you were my best friend! The only person I ever trusted completely! And then suddenly… I was nothing to you anymore. I was cast aside for Padme, for the Chancellor, for the Republic and for the Jedi… I guess I was wrong to put so much faith in you. I really believed you were different.”

Her words stung, he didn’t know what to say. Maybe he had failed her. He fell silent. He’d spent so much time saving peoples’ lives, he never thought about their emotions. “How did Padme die?” he asked. She flinched at her name, but this wasn’t about his obsession anymore. He wanted to know if his wife had died similarly believing he’d failed her. The temple guardian had said she wouldn’t be able to look at him on the path he was on and stand by his side while he walked in darkness. Was this what he’d meant? That he’d been so focused on saving her physical life, he’d stopped seeing her needs and wants?

“I don’t know.” She said. “I wasn’t there. I heard it on the holonews.” His heart sunk. Did he dare ask about the child? “I don’t think it made it.” She said quietly as though she knew where his mind had gone. Had he truly been that selfish? So obsessed with what he wanted, he hadn’t seen what  _they_  wanted? Or had he just assumed they valued their lives as much as he did?

He sat down heavily on the bottom step. “I did everything I thought I had to do to save her. I even killed for her. And it never once occurred to me that she wouldn’t want me after that. I was so focused on making sure I didn’t lose her, I just assumed she’d want to be there as badly as I wanted her to be.” He dropped his face in his hands. It was weird to say this out loud. But she was dead now, what was the point of holding it in anymore? Who cared if Ahsoka knew the truth now? Nothing mattered anymore.

He felt her sit down next to him. “She loved you, Anakin. But life isn’t black or white. There are far worse things than death. I should know, I’ve been living them.”

“Death never scared me.” He said swallowing hard. “Living without the people I loved… that was what scared me.”

“I know.” She said quietly. Nothing else really needed to be said. She had known, she’d always known. They sat in silence for a long time. “There’s nothing I can tell you that brings the people we love back. But… as long as they’re here, in our memories, in our hearts, in the force… they’re never really gone.”

“How do you let go?” He asked.

“I don’t.” She said simply. “But I let myself love them no matter where they are. And I don’t blame them for leaving or others for taking them from me. There’s a bigger world out there than our own experiences. You used to always tell me all the time that there’s a bigger picture I’m not seeing. You were right. When I learned to see that, I stopped being the victim.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. When did she get to be so wise? This was his padawan, but she was far smarter than him. “How’d you end up with white lightsabers?” He was suddenly curious to know more about her. He was starting to think he didn’t know her at all.

“I’m not sure,” She started. “I left my old ones on Mandalore when I faked my own death. For the next year, I found myself collecting seemingly useless junk. I didn’t really know why. But then I started feeling something call to me. Eventually I went up against an inquisitor,” she paused, noticing his confusion, “dark side agents, not quite Sith but trained in the ways of the force and wielded lightsabers. Double-hilted ones, usually. During our fight, I felt the crystals in his lightsaber sing to me. I’m still not sure what happened. But when I picked them up after his lightsaber exploded, I could feel their pain. I tried to heal them. When I put my new ones together, they were white.”

“You can heal bleeding crystals?” He asked in awe. “That’s what you were trying to do to the one I was holding earlier?”

“Yes, but these lightsabers are thousands of years old. They’re unstable. When I realized it wasn’t working…”

“You took it from me and threw it away.”

“Let’s just say I witnessed firsthand what that explosion does to someone’s face. I didn’t need to see it again.” She shifted slightly uncomfortable.

“Even when you were fighting me back there, with intensity enough to kill, you still protected me?”

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” She said, standing up and began climbing the temple wall.

He smirked to himself. Maybe she was still the same person he’d once known.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a long climb to the top. The pain in his leg had mostly subsided, but it was still difficult to move. He should be angry at her for it, but the more he thought about the things she’d said, the more impressed he was. “I noticed you’ve adapted your lightsaber technique. It’s powerful.” He said conversationally. 

 She paused a few meters above him and looked down. “Yes.” She said. For a moment that’s all he thought she’d say. “Once I got my new lightsabers, I felt different. And since these fit in my hands differently, I started trying out different ways to swing them. I still favor the reverse grip, but I found a comfortable way to combine your form with my own. I guess it was a way to keep you close to me.”

 "But you said you fought the future me… so if you knew I was out there, why’d you need to keep me close?“

 "I didn’t know you were out there. I thought you died back in the temple when order 66 happened. I thought you died being a hero. And I mourned for you every day. I should have been there. I should have been by your side when the temple burned. So imagine my shock when you show up sixteen years later in a horrible black suit, twisted beyond recognition. Mourning your death was far less painful than seeing you become the very darkness you’d spent your life fighting against.” She responded, heavy pain in her voice.

 "What is order 66?“ He asked confused. He didn’t dare tell her that he was the reason the temple burned. That he’d not been the hero that day. At the time, he thought he was. He thought he was protecting the republic, he thought he was protecting his wife, he thought he was ending the war. But now to hear it from her side… he wasn’t so sure.

"Order 66 was the Empire’s excuse to burn the Jedi order down.” She said angrily. “It was executed without mercy or trial. And it had been planned long before the Clone Wars started. Whoever was responsible for the creation of the clones, intended to use them against the Jedi someday. Order 66 overrode their free will and made them turn on their Jedi generals. Ten thousand Jedi slaughtered in a matter of hours. The inquisitors were sent after any survivors. Any that were captured alive were taken to Mustafar to die. I guess that was to you. So tell me Anakin, was Padmé’s life worth ten thousand? Or the hundreds of thousands the empire has slaughtered since? Because I knew her too, and after devoting her life to democracy and to the people… she would have gladly sacrificed her life and even the life of her unborn child to make sure those deaths never happened.”

 He felt anger burning in him again. He would not have his motives questioned like that. “Why do you care? They threw you out!”

 She stared at him a moment. She did not retaliate in anger. She looked at him like she’d never seen him before, and it bothered him. “You’re right. They did. They betrayed me. They betrayed my trust. But they were still people. Flawed though they were. Killing them would never have changed what they did to me. I am not a Jedi, I know that now. But none of them deserved the fate they were given. They hurt you, so you hurt them back. What does that gain you? It makes you just as bad as them. I thought the mask you wore was what twisted your view, but clearly, it was the person behind it that was twisted. And I was too blind to see it before.”

 Without another word, she force leapt to the top of the temple, disappearing from view. He stumbled, struggling to make it the last of the way to the top. When he finally did, he saw her sitting on her knees in the middle, meditating, he assumed. He still felt the anger burning in him, but when he realized she was crying, it started to recede. No matter what circumstances had changed, he’d never meant to hurt her. Everything he’d done, he’d assumed had been to make things better. But even without understanding the full cost, he was starting to see that perhaps he never really knew what was better for people. From the moment Qui gon found him on Tatooine, he’d been told he was the Chosen One; a burden put on him that somehow, he was solely responsible for fixing the problems in the galaxy. Something he’d felt he couldn’t do as a Jedi. Their beliefs stopping them short of victory. But maybe victory had never been the answer. Maybe you win the war, but you lose everything else. Including yourself. 

 Everything that Ahsoka had said had been painful to hear. Even more so than the things that Obi wan had said to him. He tried to kneel down next to her, but his leg crumpled, and he fell into a heap on the ground. He rolled onto his back looking up at her, his teeth gritting from the pain. He felt pathetic, helpless and small. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore. Until this point he’d always had a direction. If not his own, then someone else’s he could put his faith in. He suddenly wished Obi wan was here. She wiped her eyes and looked down at him, biting her lip. Would apologizing make any difference now? Did he even deserve forgiveness?

 She looked like she was about to say something, but then hesitated. Whatever it was he probably deserved too. “I don’t know your past, Anakin. Because you never told me. I don’t know all the things that shaped your perspective, or why you felt things more deeply than others. And maybe I don’t know anything about you at all. But I remember back at the beginning of the Clone Wars, when we went up against Grievous and his horrible new ship as it targeted a medical station. And I remember your determination to save as many lives as possible. And I remember what it felt like, to stand next to you when you told her that you wouldn’t take the lives you lost lightly. That was the moment I told myself I wanted to be just like you. I wanted to see people not numbers. I wanted to remember the faces and the feel of the people, the ones we were fighting the war for. You thought I didn’t notice. That no one did. But you were wrong about that too. I liked that you weren’t like the other Jedi. I liked that you cared. And I wanted nothing more than to fight by your side because I truly believed you had it right. You were like no other Jedi, and that was what I admired about you the most.”

 It was his turn to hesitate. He didn’t have a clue how to answer her. He’d always just assumed that she only listened to what he taught her, not that she was paying attention to the other stuff. He stared past her at the sky, feeling himself sinking into the unknown. At the beginning of the clone wars, he’d felt more in control than he did now. Being given the rank of general allowed him to take more things into his own hands. The council could still overrule him, but didn’t as much as they wanted to because he got results. When she’d come along, it was like he had a partner in crime. She wasn’t afraid to bend the rules some, she saw things the same way he did. And she cared just as much. He could trust her, because she was like him. He looked back at her face. No, she wasn’t like him, she was better than him. She was everything he wanted to be. But she could control herself, he couldn’t. And if she hadn’t left the temple when she did, he probably would have dragged her under too.

 “When you left… you said you were scared. Were you scared of me too?” he asked.

 “I was scared for you.” She said quietly. “I was scared I couldn’t save you. I saw what the war was doing to you. I felt your pain. The longer the war went on, the farther we fell from the light. I didn’t see how bad it was until my trial. I thought if I distanced myself from all of it, I could come back for you and better know how to help you. But then Bo Katan called wanting us to help her free Mandalore. And then Order 66… and the news that you’d died…” she sighed heavily.

 He reached over and took her hand that was resting on her knee. “I never wanted any of this. Nothing went like I thought it would. I thought I had the power to end the war. I thought I could learn the power to save the people that I loved. But I failed. I failed my mother, I failed the Jedi, I failed my master, my friends and you.”

 “Ending the war wasn’t your responsibility, Anakin.”

 “Maybe it was! Maybe someone needed to take responsibility for it!” he exclaimed.

 She squeezed his hand that was still holding hers. “No.” she said as though issuing an order. He was surprised by the sudden strength in her tone. She’d become the leader he’d always known she could be. “The war needed to end, but people had to collectively decide to end it and they didn’t.”

 “But I could have! I mean I must have!” he said a little weaker.

 “It’s true that the Clone Wars ended.” She said. “But the fighting never stopped. The Republic became a dictatorship under Chancellor, sorry,  _Emperor_  Palpatine. Millions of people were enslaved, oppressed, and killed. The war ended, but it didn’t make anything better for anyone. So many more people are suffering now than those that were during the Clone Wars. What we were fighting for? Became the very thing that caused all of this. Maybe it was the very thing that started all of it to begin with.” He admired the passion in her voice.

 “But democracy never worked either!”

 She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. He felt her reach for peace inside the force. He certainly wasn’t feeling very peaceful inside. He could tell that he was frustrating her. There was just so much, did they really think they could hash it out in one sitting? He was exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions since he’d been here, and then add on all the things that had happened right before coming here. He really just wanted to curl up in a bed and forget everything for awhile. Not that that would help anything. Sleep wouldn’t come. It never did.

 He tried taking a deep breath and realized that as she found peace in the force, so did he. He felt a warmth from where his hand rested on her knee. He felt it spread through him. His muscles started relaxing. The pain began to subside, he felt his eyes droop. “Ahsoka?” he murmured.

 “Shh…” she whispered. He fought it for a moment longer and then relaxed.

 —

 When he woke up, he had no idea how much time had passed. She was still sitting there, as she had been when he fell asleep. She was deep in meditation, but his hand still rested in hers. His leg didn’t hurt anymore, everything seemed clearer. He didn’t know that she could do force healing. It was a rare gift and he’d never seen her do it before. He certainly didn’t feel as heavy. It was strange.

 He watched her face, tracing the lines of her markings. She’d grown up. Her features more womanly than childlike now. She was beautiful. He could feel her strength. But she was stable too. Even as they’d argued back and forth, she’d remained firmly rooted. She could control her anger, she could stop herself from acting from emotion. She could be sharp and soft. Even in all the stinging words she’d spoken, she’d never condemned him, not completely anyways. And now that he was calmer, he could appreciate it.

 “So how did you end up in the future anyways?” she asked, apparently aware that he was awake again.

 “A temple guardian appeared to me. He offered me a chance to see the future I was creating, I guess.” He said a little doubtful. He didn’t really want her to know all the things that he had done. But she seemed to know a lot of it anyways.

 “So he sent you here? How can you see that future if you’re stuck on this planet with me?”

 “Maybe he thought you’d be my guide?” he said tentatively.

“Well… IF we can get off this planet. I guess I could show you.” She chewed on her lip sounding doubtful.

 “Maybe he thought you’d be the only one willing to give me another chance?” she looked down at him frowning slightly. And then again… maybe not.

 “I shouldn’t want to.” She said finally, she got a distant look in her eyes. “After the things you’ve said and done. I guess you’re lucky I’m a loving person.” She said smacking him on the shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

“Well I guess if I’m supposed to show you the state of the galaxy right now, we'd better find a way off this planet,” she sighed and stood up. He watched her as she stretched for a moment. She had changed a lot. That was an understatement, of course. But every time he looked at her, he couldn’t believe it was the same person he’d seen a week ago. He blew air out the corner of his mouth. Maybe time did that to you. Or experience. And if the galaxy really was in as bad of shape as the temple guardian had said, and after what she’d said… it made sense she wasn’t the same carefree padawan he’d once known.

He glanced above her as he saw a shadow glide through the streams of light coming from the surface of the planet. She’d seen it too, because she’d stopped and tipped her chin up. Even from where he was still laying, he’d sensed the change in her; known that her eyes had narrowed, her jaw set. She didn’t move a muscle as she listened with the force. Then he saw her relax and put out her arm. A bird swooped out of the darkness and landed on it. She rubbed its head affectionately with her long, slender fingers and then turned to look back at him.

He stared at it confused. He’d never been to this planet before, but he’d felt the death in this place; the total void of life. So where had this bird come from and how did she know it? The convor watched him with big green eyes and then ruffled its feathers. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t place it. “I don’t know either,” she murmured as though responding to it. “The force seems to have intervened.” He sat up, looking between them in confusion as the bird hooted a few times. She looked down at him. “Anakin, this is Morai. You probably don’t remember her, but…” she bit her lip.

His eyes widened, and he glanced back at the convoree. “The daughter. From Mortis.” She nodded, and the bird hooted again.

Ahsoka ran her fingers down Morai’s head. “She’s been guiding me.” He swallowed. He’d tried so hard to forget about what happened on Mortis. The way it had felt when she’d died. He couldn’t go through that again. But that was why he’d been so desperate to save Padmé. What happened on Mortis had given him a glimpse of a power beyond the Jedi comprehension. More than anything, it had showed him that it _was_ possible to cheat death. So, when the Chancellor had offered to teach him… he’d had no reason to doubt that it could be done.

His heart was racing in his chest as the memories of what happened there flooded his brain. Now that he thought about it though, the only reason they’d been able to bring Ahsoka back to life was because the Daughter had sacrificed herself. So, to save Padmé… was that why the Chancellor had ordered him to kill all those people? He brought his hands to his head and shook it, wishing he could just empty the thoughts and fears that overwhelmed him. How many people would he have to kill to save her? Only one had been needed to save Ahsoka, and the Daughter had given herself willingly.

He started when the bird landed on his knee. It stared at him as though searching through the jumbled mess inside his head to find something. It hooted a few times and he swallowed. “I don’t understand…”

“She said, ‘you know the truth,’” Ahsoka translated.

“I know the truth?” He furrowed his brow. It hooted again, ruffling its feathers and hopped up his leg.

“’She died to bring you back to life.’” He stared at the bird as it felt as though something heavy landed on his chest. “What is she talking about, Anakin?”

He shook the bird off him and dropped his face into his hands, shaking from a mixture of anger and sorrow. “I killed her…” he muttered, tears poured from his eyes. “I thought I was saving her, but the vision… the vision came true because of me…”

Ahsoka knelt before him and set her hand tentatively on his knee. “Padmé?”

He sobbed harder, his throat constricted, and he struggled to breathe. She put her hand on his back. He didn’t deserve her love. He didn’t deserve her comfort. He didn’t deserve anything. Obi wan was right to try to kill him. He looked up at her. “You said I was wearing a suit yesterday?”

“Yes, armor from head to toe. It was covered in control panels and buttons. I could tell you needed it to live. Especially after I cut part of your mask off. Your breathing became more and more labored. Why?”

“Obi wan,” he choked. “We fought on Mustafar. I was angry. I told him I hated him…” He dropped his face in his hands again. “I was just trying to save Padmé, but he tried to stop me. He cut off the rest of my limbs and left me to burn.” She ran her hand across his back. “That’s when the temple guardian appeared. Told me it could show me the future I was creating. I should have died from my wounds. If I’d died… Padmé would have survived. The Chancellor…” he struggled to process his thoughts, his words. It felt like they were drowning him as he gasped for breath. “He told me if I joined him, he could teach me how to save her. But instead, he stole her life to save mine.” He grabbed her shoulders suddenly and she looked startled as his fingers dug into her skin. “You died on Mortis. The daughter, Morai… she gave you the last of her life force to bring you back. The Chancellor must have heard about it. He must have read the report. He must have found out how to transfer life. He knew… he knew that if I found out Padmé had died anyways… I would have nothing left to live for. I’d become his slave for the rest of my life.”

“Anakin…” she said softly but she shifted uncomfortably. He released her shoulders. “What you’re saying…” It was her turn to choke up. “It shouldn’t be possible.” Morai landed on her shoulder and nuzzled against her head. She looked at the bird, her eyes wide. “I knew she had saved my life… but I didn’t know… _Oh Morai…_ ”

He watched the shadow swirl through her eyes. She stood up looking numb and glided over to the edge of the temple and stared blankly out across the ash graveyard. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms in front of herself. He pulled himself to his feet and limped slowly to where she was standing, looking out over the frozen death and darkness below them.

Maybe he didn't want to see the state of the galaxy. Maybe he didn't need to know. He knew enough already, just after a few hours with her. But even if he went back, right to where he'd left off. He couldn't change any of the things he'd just learned. Except one... he could make sure he died on Mustafar. He could beg Obi wan to finish him. That wouldn't stop the Chancellor. Or the Empire she'd described. It wouldn't bring the Jedi back to life, or end the war. But it _would_ save Padmé. And that was all he'd really wanted.

But what about Ahsoka?


End file.
